A Brother's Sorrow
by CoffeeRanger
Summary: Based on JustValiant1717's story "King and Lionheart." An introspection into what each of the four Pevensies were thinking when Edmund volunteered to take Peter's place in the Reaping in chapter 4.
1. Chapter 1

**A/n:** Hello, everyone! Chapter 4 of _King and Lionheart_ was so powerful! This story practically leaped off the page at me while I was reading it. Thankfully, the fabulous Valiant gave her permission for me to put pen to paper.

I hope I did justice to the depth of Peter's character. While reading the chapter, I kept picturing Peter's face, how angry it would look, but how his eyes would express the sorrow and fear he was feeling. I wanted to be able to get inside that, to show the emotions behind the rage that Valiant gave us in chapter 4.

Anyways, anything you see in **Bold** is from Valiant's story. And, I apologize right now for any errors in formatting. This is my first time publishing on FFN and I'm still getting used to how everything works. Additionally, I did not have a beta for this story, though I did read it over many times, so any grammatical mistakes are all mine.

For those of you interested, I listened to William Joseph's cover of _Safe and Sound_ on YouTube almost the entire time writing this. I think it adds just the right touch that cannot be conveyed through mere words. I slowed it down to 0.75 to give it more of a lullaby/sorrowful feel.

Thank you once again, Valiant, for allowing me to write this story! I hope it lives up to your expectations!

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 **"I'm going to kill you!"** I snarl as I grab my brother by the collar. Rage courses through my body and I shake him, not to hurt him — never _ever_ that; I'd sooner cut off my own arm than hurt him — but because I can _do_ nothing else. Doesn't he understand what he's just done?

 **"You bloody idiot! Why! I could kill you right now!"**

I don't mean it. I never mean what I say to him in anger, but I can't stop the words.

It isn't supposed to be like this. _I_ am the protector. It isn't his job. _His_ job is to step back and allow me to protect him. It has always been my job: to keep my brother from harm, to shield him as best I can from the horrors of our life. Ever since he had been placed into my arms, I knew that it would be that way. It is my purpose, my _joy_. It is why my name had been entered twelve times this year, why I brave hunting in the woods and selling our supplies at the market for medicine or gifts for Edmund. And now my ability to protect has been taken from me; taken by the very person I am _sworn_ to protect.

I will Edmund to understand, to sense the _love_ beneath my harsh words and actions – not just the rage. My heart is breaking; my soul shattering into thousands of pieces as I realize that my choices have been taken from me. _There is nothing I can do._ My baby brother is going to die and _there is nothing I can do to stop it._

My hold on Edmund's shoulder tightens. I can't lose him; I won't. There has to be something I can do!

 **"Let go of him."** A girl is murmuring in my ear — Susan Pevensie — I realize. **"Peter, let go of your brother. You can't hurt a tribute before the games. They'll punish you."**

 _Tribute_. The word sucks the air from my lungs, the fight from my body. That is what my brother has become – what he has taken from me. No longer is he Edmund Leonidas; he is a Tribute, a sacrifice to be offered on the bloody altar of the Capital's games.

I turn my gaze to him, knowing we have at most 10 seconds before I have to let go of him or be pulled away. I expect to see hurt, fear, even anger in his expression. I had all but abandoned him over the past year; angry that he had gone behind my back to put himself in further danger. I am disgusted with myself now… now that I might never see him again, now that that might have been the last year of us being together, of being _PeterandEdmund_ instead of _Peter_ and _Edmund_. I see none of them though, and what I do see almost drives me to my knees to beg his forgiveness.

 _Love_ shines from Edmund's gaze. It is so bright and clear anyone can see it if they look. It is the love that had sat in his gaze every day until I drove it from him with my cold behavior over the past year.

 _What did I do to deserve you?_ I question. And what have I done? My younger brother is going to die in my place, and I have done nothing but be cruel to him. _It should be me._

"It's all right, Peter." Edmund whispers. His hand reaches up to cup my cheek. "It's my turn to protect you now." He grins, but it is watery at the edges and tears are threatening to spill from his eyes at any second.

I pull him to me. Crush him to my chest and breathe deeply, memorizing his scent – memorizing _him_. My shoulders are shaking as I struggle to contain my own tears. I can feel wetness on my neck and know Edmund has lost the battle with his.

"I love you, Ed." I whisper back. "More than anything else in the world. _Never_ forget that. I'm sorry for how I've treated you this past year."

"It's all right. I forgive you." Edmund answers. "I love you too."

I press a kiss to his forehead. Then... he's gone. Away from my arms, away from my protection. His head is held high and his shoulders are straight as he walks onto the platform next to Susan. The tear tracks marring his cheeks do not detract from the majesty of his bearing, but add to it.

 _Lion, protect him for I cannot. Keep him in Your paws and bring him home safe._

The words of the supplication spring unbidden to my mind. I pour my anguish into them, hoping that someone, somewhere, will hear them and answer my prayer.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/n: Hello Everyone,**

 **Gosh! I am so blown away by all your lovely reviews. Thank you so much for both them and the favs/follows. I am glad that you all enjoyed it.**

 **This chapter is in Susan's POV. It came out differently than I thought it would, but I hope you all enjoy it. Once again, anything in bold is taken directly from Valiant's fic or paraphrased from it, and I apologize for any grammatical mistakes. Edmund's chapter should be up next, but it might be a while. I have a few other projects I am working on along with this one. Real Life and college also demand my attention. I will try to get it done as quickly as possible though!**

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 ** _ChecktheGate:_** **Thank you for your kind words. They meant so much to me, especially because the reason I've never written for Narnia is because I felt inadequate. I didn't want to mess up what Lewis was so kind to leave us. I hope you enjoy this next chapter.**

 ** _Iori Blue:_** **Oh! You definitely should go and read Valiant's fic! It is amazing and I promise, it is not a bad crossover AT ALL. I've read bad ones myself and so I was a little hesitant when I first clicked on it. However, Valiant has done more than blow my expectations away. She has such a way with her words; she made it seem as if the Pevensie's had been born in Panem, as if they belonged there, instead of being superimposed on another storyline.**

 **Edmund's wit and sarcasm is one of the things I loved about him. However, in this instance I think he would tame it down. He's just taken Peter's place as tribute and knows he is likely to die in the next few weeks. I think that would be enough to temper anyone's wit.**

 **Lucy should be coming up soon. I plan on doing a POV chapter for each of the four. Her's will probably be last though, since Edmund has been bugging me all week to write his and I'm not quite sure yet what I want to do for Lucy's chapter.**

 **Thank you for the encouragement!**

 ** _Aslan'sMane:_** **I'm glad you loved it! That is an amazing story ideas; thank you so much for sharing it with me and for thinking that I am good enough to do it justice. However, at this moment, I am swamped with projects and so cannot take on another one at the moment. I wish I could though!**

 ** _Chickencomes1st_** **: I love your username! I've had that discussion many times with friends and family. Thank you for your encouragement. I hope this next chapter lives up to your expectations!**

 **Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don't own it… If I did, the next movie would have come out a long time ago. :/**

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 **Peter's face is white as a sheet as he steps from the crowd of eighteen-year-old boys**. My heart breaks for him. We are in the same situation, forced to leave our siblings behind to fend for themselves in a world where no one but us care. I can see in his eyes the same fear that rests in my chest — not fear for ourselves, though that is present, but fear for our siblings' futures. We had the ability to protect them this year, but we are both destined to die in the games. What if next year their names are pulled and there is no one there to step forward, to accept the blow meant for them?

He is almost to the bottom of the stage — ten feet left between him and the bottom step — when a voice calls out.

It is trembling, barely able to be heard even in the stillness of the crowd, but it is there.

 **"** **I volunteer!"**

Edmund Leonidas is all but shoving people aside to join his brother. Lucy stands, hands over her mouth and eyes wide.

"I volunteer." This time his voice rings clearly, and it has deepened. It carries with it more than a hint of authority, and I find myself turning to him almost instinctually. I have to blink my eyes a few times because of the vision of intense passion I see as he walks towards us.

He is still Edmund Leonidas, but, somehow, he is… more. His eyes flash with wisdom and an understanding so deep it is matched only by the eyes of the Lion I sometimes see in my dreams. He stands in blue and silver robes with a sword strapped to his side. It is not hard to imagine him as a fearful, yet fair judge.

I look over at Peter. **There is absolutely no way to describe his pallor. A lifetime's worth of emotions flit across his cerulean eyes.** They flash with such rage I step back involuntarily. Edmund has walked near enough to reach, and Peter doesn't waste one second.

 **He seizes Edmund by the collar of his shirt and shakes him to the sound of Tyla's scream.** **Caspian tries to dislodge Peter's vice-like grip, but the older Leonidas boy holds on, red-faced, shaking with rage and looking murderous.**

 **"** **I'm going to kill you!"** He snarls. **"You bloody idiot! Why! I could kill you right now!"**

I hear the words, but they do not match what I see in his eyes. Pain — pain that mirrors the expression he wore the day Lucy and I found him in the forest hunched over Edmund, crying and desperately trying to keep his brother alive. It is almost the same situation, I realize, for Edmund has no hope of winning the games. He has been dealt another death blow — only this time he took it on willingly, and there is nothing Peter or anyone can do to fix it.

Caspian makes a move towards the brothers, gesturing with his head towards the guards. I turn to look at him, pleading with my eyes for him to allow them just a little more time. Just a few more seconds to hold each other, to comfort each other for what will probably be the last time.

We stare at each other, neither willing to break the eye contact. Then, Caspian's shoulders slump and he nods slightly. The guards back off at some unseen signal, leaving the two brothers standing in front of the stage.

 **I walk over to them after a few seconds, tugging on Peter's shirt, "Peter, let go of your brother." I whisper. He simply tightens his grip on Edmund's shoulder. "You can't hurt a tribute before the games. They'll punish you!"**

The truth of what I just said hits me like one of the miners' pickaxes. _Tribute._ That is what we have become. I am not Susan anymore than he is Edmund. We are tributes, to be sent to the Capital as sacrifices for their entertainment.

I see the same thoughts flit through Peter's eyes. Many emotions wage for dominance within their stormy depths. Regret and guilt seem to be the strongest for they are what I see the most. It confuses me. What could Peter have done to be sorry about?

Edmund seems to know. "It's all right, Peter." He whispers. The words are so soft, I barely catch them. He reaches a hand up and cups Peter's cheek. "It's my turn to protect you now."

I turn away, guilt sitting in my chest. Those words, that moment, had been meant for Peter and Peter alone. Though it had not been intentional, I feel like an intruder.

I walk quickly up onto the platform and gaze out over the crowd until I find Lucy. She is still standing where Edmund left her. Her hands have left her mouth, but tears still sit in her eyes. Her expression though, has changed.

Gone is the fear that had sat in her eyes when I volunteered. Gone is the pain that had entered them as first Peter then Edmund walked towards the platform. In their place sit determination and trust.

I catch her gaze, and the courage falters for a moment before returning. She smiles at me, though it trembles at the corners. Slowly, she raises her right hand, placing it over her heart with her thumb, pointer finger, and pinky raised.

Tears come to my eyes yet again. It is our special sign. Lucy insisted we make one when she was 6 years old "because that's what best friends do, Susan, and we're best friends so we have to have one!". We have used it often over the years, to bolster each other spirits, to apologize after an argument, or just because. It means _I love you_ and _I am here for you_ and _I will never leave you_.

I return the gesture as I feel Edmund settle into place beside me. I subconsciously step closer to him, bumping our shoulders together as Tyla steps once more to center stage.

"District 12, I present your tributes!" She shouts gesturing at us.

I inhale sharply as reality sinks further in. _Tributes._

"Lion, protect them." Edmund whispers next to me.

I scoff silently. Prayers won't save either them or us. Only by the intervention of someone else will our siblings be protected in the upcoming years, and it is only through a miracle that we will even live to see the next month.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/n: Hey everyone!**

 **I'm still blown away by all the positive feedback for this story. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.**

 **This chapter is Edmund's point of view. I hope you all like it. Once again, anything in bold is Valiant's and all grammatical mistakes are my own.**

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 ** _Saltonwounds:_** **Thank you for your kind words. I hope this chapter lives up to your expectations.**

 ** _Chickencomes1st:_** **Your reviews are something special to me! Thank you for taking the time to tell me what you think.**

 **I'm glad you are going to check out Val's fic because it truly is amazing. God has blessed her with the talent to draw out such emotion. My heartstrings are pulled each time I read something by her.**

 **You are so right. Everything God has created is amazing. God bless you!**

 ** _YAMSANDWICH:_** **Some of them are. I have another chapter for this story planned out (Lucy's POV), but I still have to write them. I also am writing another story that was inspired by JustValiant's fic King & Lionheart, which is where the inspiration for this story came from. That one's a few chapters long and I should be posting the first chapter soon. The rest of the projects are LOTR (my other main fandom) related. **

**_Iori Blue:_** **Whew! Glad you think so. I was trying to channel her attitude in Prince Caspian and The Last Battle there. Susan's story always made me sad whenever I read the Narnia books.**

 **Oh, yes! Please do give King & Lionheart a try. I promise you won't be disappointed. **

**I hope you like this next chapter. Thank you for all your kind words.**

 **Disclaimer: *Checks mail* Well, I still haven't gotten the letter telling me that I own Narnia… So, nothing in this fic is mine. I'm simply borrowing the awesomeness of Lewis and JustValiant.**

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 **"** **Peter Leonidas."**

My entire world crumbles with those two words. For 5 years, I have stood – separated from him while the Reaping occurs – terrified that I would lose him. For 5 years, I have breathed sighs of relief as someone else was chosen, even as my heart broke for the families left behind. For 5 years, I have crashed into his arms as soon as we are allowed back together and not let him go until long after we got home.

But now, that is no longer possible. 5 years of safety, and now, just when he would have been safe, Peter's name just had to be drawn. I press my lips together. I won't let this happen. My grip tightens on Lucy's shoulders.

"Stay here." I whisper in her ear. "Keep an eye on Peter. Please. I'll watch out for Susan. She'll come back to you if I can help it. I swear it."

She turns to stare at me, eyes wide. I ignore her, turning my face towards the stage. Peter has just reached the bottom step – I am almost too late.

 **"** **I volunteer!"** I cry. My voice shakes and only those closest to me turn and look. Peter's almost taken that last step onto the stage– the step that will keep me from being able to protect him, that will keep him from staying here. Where he belongs.

I hurl myself forward, pushing people aside in my desperate attempt to reach him. "I volunteer!" _Please. Don't let me be too late. Let me save him._ I pray.

I finally push my way out of the crowd of 14-year-olds. The stage is 10 feet in front of me. Peter turns from it, striding quickly towards me. Before I can say anything, he grabs me by the collar and shakes me.

 **"** **I'm going to kill you."** He snarls in my ear. **"You bloody idiot! Why! I could kill you right now!"**

I stare up at him, eyes wide. He hasn't spoken to me in almost a year. Not since I took the tesserae last fall when he got influenza. I don't know what to expect anymore – and that scares me. My brother has become a stranger, and now that he's holding me, snarling at me, I can't help but shrink back a little.

Then, I look into his eyes. Peter and I have always been able to read each other. Despite the front we can put up for other people; with each other, we have never had the ability to be anything but honest. Our souls won't let us be anything else; we are two halves of one whole, "two peas in a pod" as my mum says. Sure, we can be mad at each other – use our words to wound each other – but the true emotions always shine out, usually in our eyes.

Right now, Peter's words scream anger and rage. But Peter's eyes – my heart breaks as I gaze into them. Peter's eyes are filled with terror and sorrow.

I can feel his grip tighten on my collar, but before he can say anything else, Susan steps forward.

 **"** **Let go of him." She murmurs in his ear, tugging on his shirt. "Peter, let go of your brother. You can't hurt a tribute before the Games. They'll punish you."**

 _Tribute._ The word sears its way across my mind – burning its presence into my soul. I don't allow the pain to overwhelm me. I can't, because the truth of Susan's statement has swept over Peter. His face has paled two shades lighter, and he turns a haunted gaze to meet my own.

Regret layered with shame shines in his sky-blue eyes. I hate it; hate the fact that Peter's feeling like that. His treatment over the past year has hurt, but I can understand it. Had our positions been reversed, I probably would have done the same thing. I don't want him feeling like this is his fault – that he drove me to taking his place. He _needs_ to know that I'm doing it because I love him, and that nothing he has ever done, or ever will do, can change that.

I know we don't have very long. If we don't part soon, we will be pulled apart. The Capitol does not like to be kept waiting.

"It's all right, Peter." I whisper. I reach my hand up to cup his cheek. A single tear slips down his face, but I wipe it away with my thumb. "It's my turn to protect you now." I grin, but I can feel it shaking around the edges. Tears pool in my eyes, and I struggle to keep them from falling.

Without a word, Peter pulls me to his chest. I am crushed by his arms, and I feel his head come down to rest on mine. I breathe deeply, memorizing what it feels like to be surrounded by his arms. Before I know it, the tears I had been struggling to contain are slipping from my eyes.

"I love you, Ed." Peter whispers in my ear. "More than anything else in the world. _Never_ forget that. I'm sorry for how I've treated you this past year."

I pull myself closer to him. "It's all right. I forgive you." I feel him relax a bit underneath me. "I love you too."

Peter presses a kiss to my forehead. I want to linger, to stay as long as I can in his embrace. But I know that if I do not pull away, Peter will never let me go. So, swallowing back my tears, I squeeze him as tight as I can. Then, I let go and slip from his arms.

My heart shatters as I do so, but I do not allow it to show. Instead, I square my shoulders and lift my chin – determined to make Peter and Mum proud of me. As I settle into place on the stage next to Susan, she moves closer to me and our shoulders bump.

"District 12, I present your tributes!" Tyla's voice rings across the silent crowd.

I look out across that same crowd. Lucy has moved forward so that she stands next to Peter. Peter, despite his still anguished expression, has placed his arm across her shoulder, pulling her close, casting his protection over her as he used to do to me.

"Lion, protect them." I whisper. It is the only thing I can do. Peter's fate – and even Lucy's – is out of my hands.

 _"_ _I will, Dear Heart. Courage."_ A warm breeze flits across my face, bringing a sweet smell that I can't describe, but somehow know. It and the voice that accompanied it fill me with courage and the knowledge that someone is looking out for both Peter and Lucy as well as Susan and me.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello everyone!**

 **We've reached the last chapter of this fic :( I can't thank each and every one of you enough for the reviews, encouragements, favorites, and follows. Last month alone this story had 161 visitors! You all have given me such confidence in my writing.**

 **This chapter, as you've probably figured out, is in Lucy's POV. I hope you all enjoy it. Out of the four, I think hers was the easiest to write.**

 **As always anything in bold is Valiant's wonderful work. I am pretty sure I managed to highlight everything, but if I've missed something, please forgive me, Val. I do not mean to pass it off as my own work.**

 **God bless you all!**

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 ** _Iori Blue:_** **I agree with you. Edmund is the smartest and most quick-witted out of the four. I tend to think Lucy comes in close second. Peter definitely earns the award for Most Protective Older Sibling, though. :D**

 **I'm glad you liked the bit between Peter and Lucy. That was actually my favorite line out of the whole chapter. :) I hope you like this chapter.**

 ** _Chickencomes1st_** **: I can feel your excitement through your words! Don't worry about eloquence, even an "it was great!" brings a smile to my face. Just the knowledge that someone took the time to tell me their opinion means so much to me. I hope this chapter meets your expectations.**

 **God bless!**

 **Disclaimer: Still don't own it. :/**

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Edmund's arm is warm and stable across my shoulders. I'm glad for it, for it's the only thing keeping me on my feet. There's a loud ringing in my ears that drowns out all other sounds.

 _Su-san. Su-san. Su-san._ My sister's name is on repeat in my brain, echoing through its depths in time to my heartbeat. My heart is breaking as I struggle to free myself from Edmund's grasp.

I can't find it in myself to be mad at Susan, for had our positions been reversed I would have done exactly as she had just done. It's what we do. We protect each other. Despite Susan's insistence that, as the older sibling, she is supposed to do the protecting, I make her relinquish some of the burden to me. I am the one who usually goes hunting, while Susan searches for the herbs and plants Mum needs for her medicines. While Susan can use a bow – and is one of the best shots I have ever seen, not that I know many archers – the thought of killing another being turns her stomach. So, I took on that role and in return I bring all of my hurts to Susan to fix.

She takes after our mum in that way. Her hands are always gentle when they are taking care of someone with an injury. Susan says I have the same gentle hands, but I'm not sure. My hands are calloused from hunting and skinning the animals I catch. However, there are also worn spots from hours spent grinding herbs into poultices, and here and there lay small scars from where thorns or prickles from the plants buried themselves into my hands. My hands show the balanced life I lead for those with eyes to look. Not like Susan's hands. Susan's hands are the hands of a healer who was forced to take up weapons, not the hands of a warrior who knows how to heal.

 _Why couldn't it have been me, Aslan? It should be me. Susan should not have to go to the Arena!_

Susan steps onto the stage, and she and the Capitol lady exchange a few words. Then Susan's name is ringing out across the crowd. All the people remain silent, simply staring up at my sister. Anger floods my veins. How dare they! They don't know – they can never know just what Susan has sacrificed by taking my place.

 **And then… as one unit, every individual standing there in the City Square rubs their clenched fist above their hearts and raises them in the air.**

The breath is knocked from my lungs. **_Take heart, Lionheart_** _._

 **It is an old gesture of love and deep respect among the dwellers of District 12**. It is a symbol of solidarity – a reminder that Aslan will always be with us, deep within our hearts and professed through our actions.

 **My tears flow in earnest as I raise my arm to join in the salute to my sister. Edmund does the same from his spot beside me. Susan tries to return the gesture – the sentiment, but is interrupted by Tyla.**

It is time for the male tribute to be chosen. Edmund stiffens, and I reach over to grab the hand that had just been in the air. We stand like that, his right arm across my shoulders and our left hands clasped together as a paper is drawn from the thousands in the bowl.

"Peter Leonidas." Caspian's words are so quiet we almost can't hear the name. A weight seems to settle across his shoulders, driving them even further to the ground then they had been at the beginning of the Reaping. I find myself pitying the man. Just like us, he is a puppet under the control of the Capitol. He did not choose to do this – not as Tyla has. It has been forced on him.

A gasp of pain from Edmund brings my attention back to him. His face has paled almost to white, and his grip on my shoulder is tight enough to bruise.

"No." He whispers. "No, Aslan, not him."

He turns to look at me and I'm shocked by the intensity of his gaze. It is not that of a 14-year-old who just had his brother ripped from him. No. Instead the person looking back at me is someone with the knowledge of the Ages. Wisdom and passion shine like a beacon from their depths. Once more, I am struck by the feeling that I should _know_ this boy. That I have seen this look many times before. I catch a glimpse of armor and hear a snippet about someplace called Tashbaan before it disappears.

"Stay here." He whispers in my ear. "Keep an eye on Peter. Please? I'll watch out for Susan. She'll come back to you if I can help it. I swear it."

I stare back at him, eyes wide. Before I can say anything, he turns and crashes through the crowd.

 **"I volunteer!"** He calls out, but only a few people turn to look his way.

 _Please, Aslan. Let him be heard!_ I find myself praying. I cannot imagine what would happen to Edmund if he is too late to save his brother.

"I volunteer!" He calls out once more, this time in a much louder and more authoritative tone.

 **He moves so quickly that I barely see glimpses of the armor-clad warrior that he is deep down**. The steel of his backplate flashes in a non-existent sunlight and a dark-blue cloak swirls around his ankles. Two swords clatter against his sides, and one arm holds a helmet. **My breath freezes in my lungs. Surely, surely the wavering vision isn't indicative of a fleeting life**. It can't be.

 _Aslan, protect him! Please. Protect them both. Let them come home to us. Don't let us lose our siblings._

 **Peter seizes Edmund the moment he's within reach. Tyla lets out a horrified scream as Caspian tries to dislodge Peter's vice-like grip, but Peter simply holds on. His face is red, and he is shaking with rage**.

 **"I'm going to kill you!" Peter snarls. His knuckles are turning white from the strength of his grip as he shakes Edmund like a rag doll. "You bloody idiot! Why! I could kill you right now!"**

Caspian has backed away from the two brothers, but he motions for two Peacekeepers to move forward. Susan notices, and turns toward him. I can't see her eyes, but know that she is pleading their cause silently. Begging him to let them have just a few more seconds to say goodbye. After a few tense seconds, Caspian nods his acquiescence, and the Peacekeepers back away.

Susan steps forward and puts grasps Peter's shirt, **"Let go of him. Peter let go of your brother. You can't hurt a tribute before the Games. They'll punish you!"**

 _Tribute._ Fear floods my veins once more at the words. My throat closes off, making it difficult to breath. I stumble back a few steps.

 ** _A tribute. His brother Edmund is a tribute._**

 ** _Susan is a tribute._**

To hear Susan accept the title so readily, so quickly… it hurts. How often has she thought over this very circumstance? How long has she known that she will take my place if my name is chosen? How long has she planned to throw her life away for mine?

 _It's not fair, Aslan! Why do we have to go through this? **Why do we have to watch our siblings fight for their lives, and yet be able to do nothing to help them?** _

The answer comes in a deep, but gentle whisper that I don't hear with my ears, but with every fiber of my being. _"Take heart, Dear One. I have a plan. Trust me. **There is something you can do, Valiant Queen. Both you and the Magnificent King. Take heart, Lionhearts**. I am near." _

The words countermand the fear that still fills my soul. I feel it loosening the tension in my heart, unblocking my throat and easing my breathing. I trust Aslan's words with my life, and more importantly I trust His words with my sister's life. If He says He has a plan, then all will be well.

I turn to look back at the stage. Susan has mounted onto it and her gaze is sweeping the crowd. She stops moving her eyes when our gazes lock. The weight of her gaze brings back the fear that Aslan had caused to disappear, but only for a moment.

 _"Courage, Lucy. You will see your sister again."_

I smile up at Susan, though I can feel it trembling at the corners. I try to project the determination I'm feeling towards her. To lend her some of the courage that Aslan just gave me. The distance is too great for me to speak to her, and even if we could, any talk of Aslan would lead to a worse fate than the Games for both of us.

Instead of trying to get closer as I wish, I raise my right hand. Curling my two middle fingers in towards my palm – leaving my pointer finger and pinky finger extended – I place my hand over my heart.

It is our special sign. The symbol of our relationship, our friendship, our sisterhood. I forced Susan to make it for us when I was six and she was 10. I had read a book in school about friends that had a special sign that they showed to one another to remind each other how much they loved each other. I wanted to do the same thing with Susan. She had been and still was my best friend in the entire world.

 _I love you. I'm here for you. I will never leave you._ Three simple sentences, but they mean the world to us. It is my promise to Susan that I will still be here for her when – not if, when, Aslan promised – she comes home. Susan returns the gesture and I chose to think that she is promising me to try her hardest to survive the Arena.

Edmund climbs up on the stage next to Susan. I glance over to where Peter is. He is standing with his shoulders slumped, looking as if the entire world has just been ripped out from under him. And in a way, it has.

 _"Go to him, Lucy."_

I move forward as soon as my brain registers the command. Peter looks down at me as I settle by his side. Tears, accompanied by fear, shine in his eyes, but, somehow, he manages to smile down at me. Without a word, he places his arm over me, drawing me close and holding me tight. Even though I have Aslan's reassurance that all will turn out, I am thankful for Peter's comfort as well.

"They'll be okay, won't they, Peter?" I whisper. "Aslan won't let anything happen to them… will He?"

I look up, searching for reassurance in his eyes. It is there, but it is hidden deep beneath fear and guilt. Peter doesn't answer, simply tightens his grip on me and turns to look up at Susan and Edmund.

 _Aslan help him trust. Help us hold to You and Your promises. Strengthen our faith, no matter what happens_


End file.
